Flunking Mussels 101

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This was the fantasy. Mussels fresh from our beach, into the pot just moments after harvest. But alas, it was not to be. After only four days of living with us the mussel tumbler escaped from its constraints of rebar, concrete, and zip ties, only to be cast adrift who knows where.

The mussels themselves will presumably be fine, until they grow too big for their little home. Me, I would have harvested them bit by bit, allowing the last of them to grow in peace. But now that 250 of them are trapped in a relatively small cage, who knows how they’ll cope. Perhaps a marauding starfish will find its way into the tumbler and thin out their ranks. Perhaps the tumbler will wash ashore on someone’s beach who will know what to do with them. Perhaps they’ll be jostled by passing submarines until they give up the ghost.

All I know is: they won’t be gracing our table, and there’s a naked pile of rebar and concrete to deal with. At least the oysters are hanging in there. The life of a farmer.

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4 Comments on “Flunking Mussels 101”


  1. Sorry to hear the tumbler was lost. But I love the photo of the shells.

  2. Henk and Greta Says:

    What a sad story. We loved your initiative, but now we feel so sorry that it went wrong.


  3. that’s a sad ending. The French, on our coast, grow the mussels on chestnut posts in very tidal waters. This means that the shells are subjected to strong sun at low tide. The mussels from Anse d’Aiguillon, in the Vendee, are amongst the best that I have ever tasted. They’re called Moules de Bouchot.

  4. Edye Says:

    Abra, I like what Henk and Greta say. Take a little trip to Anse d’Aiguillon and enjoy the mussels there… have confidence if the little mussels found a way to escape the constraints of rebar and cement, they’ll conquer the confines of your trap!


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